


Fable of Fangs

by disappointingjesusalldayTM



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Anarch Movement (Vampire: The Masquerade), Blood and Gore, Camarilla (Vampire: The Masquerade), Drama & Romance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Forbidden Love, Human/Vampire Relationship, Kinky, Love Bites, Minor Character Death, New York City, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Religion, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28933614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disappointingjesusalldayTM/pseuds/disappointingjesusalldayTM
Summary: Cecile is a normal art student in New York. One night, she decides to attend a party with her best friend Bruno. The next morning, she awakes in an unfamiliar apartement with a strange, dreadful feeling of hunger. She slowly discovers that what she thought had been a one-night-stand, was actually the stranger turning her into a vampire. Now the Camarilla wants her dead, or will Sophie step in? And what does it mean, being a kindred? What beast will Cecile have to control, and is there salvation in faith?(This fic does not necessarily follow the storyline of "VtM: Coteries of NY" Said game is available on MacOS, Windows, Switch, PlayStation4 and Xbox! I dont own the characters belonging to the "Vampire the Masquerade" franchise! This is a mix of OCs (original characters by me) and existing, fictional figures.Attention: This fic includes graphic desciption of content that may be unfitting to a sensitive audience! If you dislike explicit sexual content, please read at your own risk. There will be NO r//pe, but sex with power dynamics (POV: sub & dom) Please make sure you are not triggered by such content
Relationships: Fledgling/Sire (Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines)
Kudos: 3





	1. Gritting Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> I always appreciate feedback! Questions or comments will hopefully be answered soon. Please keep in mind that I am a student and I have a personal life, therefore I cannot promise that the updates will be frequently. I will do my best though. Enjoy this kinky fic with romance ;)

This was unlike me, and after I woke up, in sweaty, messy sheets, I wondered what I had been thinking last night. Something felt different, somehow. My head was spiralling and for a second I struggled to remember who I was. Had I been drinking that much? I tried to recall basically everything. After a terrifying moment of complete blankness, I remembered a few details dizzily. My name is Cecile, I recalled, I am nineteen years old and I am an art student. I am a hopeless romantic and not one for a one-night-stand, but yesterday me apparently forgot about that. My head was spinning as I raised myself with a deep sigh. Flashes of yesterday night thrilled my consciousness. Flashy impressions of a party, that I had attended with my close friend Bruno. Some unfamiliar disco, Bruno making out with a bartender, a few drinks, loud music and a strange, handsome man. I blink. That’s where my memory starts to blur. Had I really drunken that much? I didn’t remember ever misjudging my limits, but after all, I wasn´t an experienced drinker. My mind travelled back to the stranger. He was tall, with uniquely fair skin, dark eyes and black hair that disguised his forehead and neck. He was dressed curiously for a nightclub, I remember him wearing a tailored black suit, a fancy white shirt slightly unbuttoned and a loose bowtie. Anyone else showing up to a disco in such an outfit would have looked ridiculous, but this man… I don’t know, he just had a way of carrying himself that justified his attitude. He had a way of filling the room with his presence that drew everyone´s gaze towards him. I looked around the room, observing my current situation. I was alone, sitting on top of a luxurious couch, in a rather cramped apartment. While the interiors were quite fancy, the room was barely large enough to contain the private bar, the sofa and the beautiful showcase displaying prestigious jewellery. The man was nowhere to be seen. I threw the cover from my body and realise that I nearly fully clothed, only missing my shirt. I stare down at the cutesy bralette I was wearing. What kind of one-night-stand had that been? As I got on my feet, a sharp pain penetrated my head and I instinctively covered my face protectively with my sweaty palms. I expected the typical hangover symptoms, although I rarely experienced it myself, but what suddenly arose within me was unlike anything I had ever felt before. The only word I could come up with that slightly described the quivering longing in my stomach was hunger, although it wasn´t just appetite, it was an enraging emotion pushing adrenalin through my veins. No, wait a second. I froze and slapped my hand on breast. Nothing. I desperately pressed my fingers against my throat, my wrists. Nothing. No pulse. I tumbled towards the large window granting me a gorgeous view on New York´s skyline. My reflection stared me down. Pale and sickly, but visibly alive. I tapped my arms, poked my thighs. No, my skin responded to my touch. Furthermore, I was fully conscious, on both feet, and, although confused, in control of my thoughts and muscles. This didn’t make any sense, I mumbled to myself. My blood wasn’t flowing anymore, my heart still in my chest, but I stood here, widely awake, gazing over the lights of New York City. I searched for my pulse again, adverting my gaze to my feet, concentrating on my body. I was far away from being a skilled doctor or anyhow experienced in the medical field, but of course I had learned the basic procedure to detect a pulse, mandatory for anyone wanting to complete their driver´s license. And no matter how hard I pressed my fingers into my skin, I felt absolutely nothing. How was that possible? I stared down on the busy road. Was I dreaming? Was I in some sort of coma, experiencing a fictional reality? The city was beautiful. For a moment I just witnessed the flow of New York. It was poetic, artistic, the blinking lights in the dark night. This city never slept. It was always alive, pulsing of colourful light and flashy advertisements, all contrasting with the monotone grey facades of the skyscrapers. They reached for the sky like the tower of Babylon. They all wanted to touch heaven. Who would be the first to get sabotaged by God? Was this foolery? Was this overestimation a sin? They longed for the gold they made themselves, they craved the abstract currency they invented, they built monuments to the money they spent constructing the towers. Who would be the first to burn like Icarus? So very close to the sun, in their castles of stone that caressed the clouds. But who was I to judge. I was part of this madness, the thousands of little creatures busily running around like chess figures, like ants. We all think we are individual and unique, but in the grand perspective of the universe, we are irrelevant. As small as the pieces of dust on the cupboard in front of me. Doomed from the start. As I inspected the city that never falls asleep, the heavy, primal force returned that made my body flinch in pain. I had never felt such a sensation, so brutal and deranged. It made my muscles clench. I buried my face in my hands, pressing my knuckles into my eye sockets, effectively blurring my vision. I must be sick. This wasn’t normal. Neither was an immobile heart, Cecile. I pulled myself out of my blurry thoughts. I had to get help, soon. Something was fundamentally wrong with me, I was in immediate need of medical treatment. Calm down, I told myself, orientate. I turned from the window. The city gave no insight on my position. As beautiful as New York was, its streets resembled each other like identical twins. A labyrinth you´d never escape, if not for maps and gps. I searched in my pockets. No phone. I held my breath, checking once again. Where the hell was my phone? Where was I?? And where was the gentlemen that appeared to have left me before I woke up? I snooped around the room. This was probably a hotel room, I figured. But where was my shirt? I found it under the couch. Not surprising, considering that the man had probably ripped it off me in the heat of the moment. Although, besides the missing shirt, I was clothed. Did I dress myself after we fucked? What a strange thought. Or, more likely, were we interrupted? But why? And why did I fall asleep while he left? Everything seemed surreal. And still, my blood stuck in my veins like solid concrete. No movements. How was I able to walk? To breathe? I decided to ignore these lingering questions. Maybe it was all a huge misunderstanding. Now, I had to rely on myself. Be rational. Logical. I know that’s not you, I mumbled bitterly. Far too hotheaded and lunatic. But I focused. I had to get to a hospital, quickly. With my phone missing, I wasn’t able to contact the emergency hotline on my own. But if my suspicion was to be true, and this was in fact a hotel, I had to return to the lobby to get help. Out of this isolated room. I pulled my shirt over my head. It was still intact, not damaged. At least he hadn’t been too rough, I thought with a desperate attempt to laugh, which only came out as violent cough. I hurried towards the exit of the flat, leaping into action before another stroke of sickness arrived. The second thrill had been worse than the first, and I feared the next one would paralyse me. Whatever this was, I shouldn’t waste any time. Arriving at the exit, I clung onto doorknob. Only a slight shift. The horror dawned upon me: The door was locked. With no key insight. I pulled again, aggressively, desperate, with a painful grunt as the door stayed in place. Think, think, think. He had been in here with me, before leaving. The door must be locked from outside. Thus, no reason to search for a key. Instead, I had to rely on someone outside to spare me. I needed their attention. I started to bang my fist against the door, screeching for help. Silent. Where was the staff? If this was a hotel, there surely must be some kind of workers. My hands started to hurt from the banging, but I didn’t stop until another wave of sickness rushed over me and I fell onto my knees, cramping on the floor. My vision darkened and bright flashes irritated my eyes as a deep, growling pain possessed my every atom, clawing its way into my core. No, no, no! I tried to punch the wooden frame, scratching my nails, digging them into the door. An inhuman noise escaped my throat, an animalistic howl, echoing somewhere deep in my bones. The threat of unconsciousness towered above me. I felt a strange, iron taste on my tongue. Conflicting emotions battled insight of me. A faintness fighting a primal desire to… hunt? My body trembled in sudden anticipation. I slowly raised myself, lunging towards the door. What was that smell, why did it infect me with such a ruthless lust? I crashed into the door, again and again, until my shoulder was numb from the bruising. Forgotten was the sickness somewhere inside of me, there was only this inflaming hunger, that spread in my consciousness. Like a wolf I jumped against the frame, gnarling furiously. Then, I collapsed.

When I regained my consciousness, I wasn´t laying steady anymore. A spark of hope inflamed me. Maybe someone had at last heard my cries and hurried to help me. As I opened my eyes, I expected an ambulance, but what I saw resembled a rather new private vehicle. I instantly jerked up, observing my situation. The car was nearly empty, I was laying in the backseat, behind the wheel towered a tall man with long, black hair and thick brows. I opened my mouth to scream but his dark eyes had noticed my sudden movements and stared me down through the rear mirror. “Silent”, he commanded. I shut my mouth, trembling. “What do you want from me?”, my voice was as weak as a stalk of grass in a storm. “You´ll find out soon”, the man´s voice was frighteningly deep, and his merciless stare reminded me of a hawk. He was buff, but he carried his muscles with a scary elegance, a fluid grace that resembled the slick movements of a panther. He was a predator, I could feel it, smell it, taste it on my tongue. “Where are we going?”, I demanded sickly, “Please, tell me what you want” “You´re talking to much”, he replied calmly, “Keep your mouth shut until our destination. Your questions will be answered” “But-“ “Shush”, he bared his teeth at me, “Look, I know you´re scared, and I´ll forgive you one or two times. But the third time you´re going on my nerves, I will make sure you won´t arrive in one piece” I felt my teeth clack onto each other heavily. My angst possessed my brain. Thousands of awful thoughts tumbled into my consciousness, describing all the terrific ways this kidnapping could go. What could he possibly want from me? My first guess was money, but I was just a simple student in this expensive city, maybe having a few spare pennies every month. And my family wasn´t all that wealthy either, so it made no sense to pick me as a target. But what if he was some sort of pimp? I froze, shaking profusely. Was the worst nightmare of every young girl just becoming reality for me? I unknowingly started to bite my nails, a bad childhood habit that I had successfully overcome in my teens, but now it was my instinctive way of comforting myself. I forced myself to breathe again. Was I slowly going crazy or did it feel weird? Manual, unnatural even. I stiffed for a second, searching for the feeling of dread. But right now, the weird flash of sickness was gone without a trace. Which was an advantage for me, I had to focus now. Wherever this stranger drove me, it would only get harder to escape. Although, we were driving quite fast, the windows were darkened but I could see distant flashes of the city passing me. Was it my best chance to just open the door, hoping the man would slow down in shock and then jumping out of the moving car? The thought frightened me, but I was more afraid of whatever awaited me at the destination of this ride. I peeked out of the vehicle. That would hurt, really hurt. I already imagined the feeling of my flesh ripping off and shuddered. There was no way I would survive this without a few broken bones, I estimated. If I was lucky. If not, the car behind us would just crash my skull, diminish it to dust. But here, on the rather busy streets of New York, I had the chance to find a shelter, to escape my kidnapper. Wherever he led me, I doubted that there would be no other insiders to restrain me. Maybe at the next red light, I figured. I prepared myself, slowly moving in a position that would grant me to jump out of the car. I closed my eyes and ordered my body to follow the movements I imagined would save me. Protect your head at all cost and rush for the sidewalks. Nervousness had taken control of me as I felt the car slow down. I tightened my muscles, focused my mind and leaped. In the surge I grabbed the door handle and rammed my whole weight against it. Nothing. The car just shook slightly, destroying my escape completely. Again, the door was locked. I felt a cold wave of fear wash over me. What if I had angered the predator in front of me? I didn’t bear it to look up. “For fuck´s sake”, the man barked out, then more calmly and cold, “Do you really think you could just hope out of here?” I felt the heated anger quiver towards me and batted my eyes, trying to not provoke him additionally. “Stupid little fledgling”, he grunted, “Listen to me” I wanted to look up, but my body felt paralysed. “Hey!”, a strange power grabbed me by the chin and made me face the man, “Listen. Follow my orders and you have a chance to survive” My throat was dry as I croaked: “Y-Yes” “Very well”, he returned his attention to the street, “It is not my intention to hurt you, but you really tempt me to change my mindset. If you keep on trying to fool me, you´ll eradicate your chances wholly” I nodded stiffly. “I assume you understood”, the hawk commented, “Good” I crawled in the corner of the backseat and laid down in a fetal position, covering my face with my hands as if I feared the stranger holding me hostage would start to spit flames. The unnerving sensation of hunger returned and I felt my intestines turn. I closed my eyes and tried to distract me somehow. The monotone hymn of the car´s engine sang a lullaby for me, swaying me like a mother does with their newborn. But that hollow calmness did not stand a chance against the sheer terror the man evoked within me. I bit my nails until the skin beneath them started to bleed. The sudden taste of metal appeared so intense, that I silently gasped. I have never been one to fear blood, although seeing others being hurt upset me. I remember that my mom used to faint whenever we went to the doctor and they drew my blood. I just always stared down on the little ampule and watched the red liquid fill it slowly. It was mesmerising in an obscene way, but maybe that´s what art is in its core: Strange, gross, but still beautiful somehow. And wasn´t it gorgeous to see the beauty in everything, even in gore? Even in disasters, destruction and pain? In dullness and greyness? I have always appreciated every aspect of life, because only in comparison to suffering, passion could really thrive. With nothing ugly and disgusting, everything pretty and enchanting was nothing but an every day´s commodity. Only those who had cried tears of sadness could spill them of joy, too. Sadness and happiness weren´t opposites, but brothers, following life´s call hand in hand. Because only when the day kisses the night, the sky beams of colours. Art has always been about confrontation.  
But this time, it was different. How often had I sucked the blood out of my thumb when I accidently cut myself? But never, ever, had the taste stick to my mouth like this, never had it enhanced my spirit in such a strange way that made me want to laugh and puke simultaneously. Without thinking I bit again. Have my teeth always been this sharp, my skin always this thin and weak? I teared off the protective layer like it was nothing, biting down until more blood filled my mouth. I witnessed in passive horror how I gulped down the liquid and enjoyed the taste with a growing appetite. When my tongue brushed over my teeth to savour the last drops of blood, I felt the unfamiliar barbed shape of my fangs, making me flinch in shock. I just realised that I had drunken my own blood and enjoyed it. With trembling fingers I intended to stop the blood flow, but like a miracle, the wound had already disappeared. I gulped down the metallic taste on my tongue. “Calm down”, the man assured me with his crooked voice, “And don´t make a mess back there” I leaned against the backseats and closed my eyes. The flashy heat had disappeared and for a moment I felt at peace. But my stomach was still growling. I felt the hawk´s eyes burn on my face. You could really sense his gaze, staring you down. I calmed my breath. I just had to wait. The predator-like man in the front returned his piercing eyes to the road and I kept my mouth shut, afraid that I was slowly reaching this beast´s final straw. I must have fallen asleep, or at least some sort of slumber, because I awoke quite harshly with his paws on my shoulders. I immediately flinched, but he pressed his fingers subtly into my skin. I realised that I was still only wearing a bra and I quickly covered my breasts. The man paid no attention to my body though, he just looked at me sternly and ordered: “Follow me. Don´t cause a scene, don’t try to run, I´ll catch you. Remember, comply and you have a decent chance of surviving” I nodded like a child in a fever dream. He swiftly gestured towards a pile of fabric: “Put this on, I want to be inconspicuous” I untangled the black shirt and slid into it. The man nodded with approval. “Alright. Now just walk by my side and behave, yes?” “Yes”, my voice was as thin as a spider´s silk. The man offered me his hand and I took it reluctantly. He helped me onto my feet and, although with trembling legs, I kept up with his stroll. He had his right arm across my shoulder, a gesture that for any bystander would look friendly and protective, but his weight on me served no more but a reminder of my unfreedom. We were inside a greyish parking lot, I observed. It was nearly empty, just a few shadows passing by, and a handful of bright headlights in the gloomy garage. I expected him to push me towards the exit, or force me into another vehicle, but we climbed a ghostly stairway and stopped in front of a dirty door. “You´re going to stay here for the night, understood?”, the hawk stated calmly, “I´ll pick you up tomorrow… evening. Stay inside and don’t get hysterical. If you´re hungry, there´s a fridge in there. Take what you need” He opened the door without letting go of my wrist. His hands twined around my arm like a constrictor snake. “Go in”, he commanded, “Sleep. I don´t want you to be overtired tomorrow. Tired fledgelings are unnerving” He pushed me into the room and closed the door behind me before I could say a word. The room was small, with monotone sully plaster, a filthy mattress on the bare ground and, as promised, a tiny fridge that looked as unkempt as the rest of the furniture. Feeling my stomach pottering around, I approached the fridge. The door squeaked when I opened it, revealing a nearly empty storage. Prominently in the middle of the murky cabinet, a clear plastic bag was placed, concealed with a peg in faded blue. I grabbed the bag, shaking it softly. It was filled with a red liquid, but too thin to be a soup. I knew what it was, but I wasn´t yet prepared to face the realisation. So I shrugged and closed the mini-bar again. With nothing else to do in this grimy prison, I laid down on the mattress and closed my eyes, ignoring the intrusive thoughts of whatever bed bugs may occupied the bed. It took me barely one deep breath to fall asleep. This time, I woke up on my own. As I opened my eyes. I felt like I had looked Medusa right in the eyes, my body as heavy as if I turned into a statue. Moving my legs was like shouldering a bag of stones. I slowly crawled from the mattress and onto my feet. It was like I had awoken from death. Like a zombie I stumbled back into life. I searched for my pulse but it was still not to be found. I nearly laughed, how calm I had grown in the last hours. My blood was seemingly unmoved but I had no energy to be concerned. The hunger was back, indiscreetly nagging me. It pulled me towards the fridge. My old self, the self that went to sleep in this strange apartment and never woke up again, called to resist the urge to drink the blood stored for me, yes, it must be blood, I felt it burn under my nails, the lust to pour it down my throat, it could only be blood. But this voice of reality, of wisdom, wasn’t able to reach me properly. Too strong was my will. I flung open the door and stared down at the bagged liquid. For a moment I quietly eyed it. Then I grabbed the bag and unclipped the peg. The smell wasn´t as intriguing as I expected. It was surprisingly foul and I felt myself gag at the sheer thought of drinking it. I held the blood close to my nose. It was a bit clumpy, and smelled horribly. Even the hunger in my intestines was appalled by the filthy odor. I closed the bag and turned my back on the fridge. Whatever instinct drove me to consider stomaching blood had left me momentarily. A bit later, the hawk reappeared. As a man od his word, it was already at dusk when a key was pushed into the lock of the door and my kidnapper greeted me with a brusque nod. “I hope you didn´t got into any trouble”, he droned. Back in his car he silently steered the wheel. I, too, kept quiet and watched the darkening streets of New York City pass by. A city that I had seen many times at night, a dusty city with colourful advertisements, flashy lights and energetic crowds. But whatever alley guided us through the city seemed dead. Like one of the rumbling clouds with filled with heavy rain had sucked all life out of the streets. It was pitch black when the car stopped in front of a rather fancy building. Observing it, I came to the conclusion that it must be some kind of museum. I tensed as the man pilot me out of the car and onto the wet street. The cobblestone shimmered under my boots, reflecting the dim street lights in a spectacular mosaic, like a jigsaw puzzle spread all over a child´s bedroom floor. I averted my gaze while the hawk guided me towards the entry, lit up by majestic lanterns. Inside, it was still somber and I felt like the portraits´ eyes followed me down the hallway. Nearing a double winged door, amused chattering poured from the chamber we were about to enter. I side-eyed the man that silently shook his head; no questions. Before he entered the room, he looked at me one last time and admonished me: “Again, don´t cause a scene and don´t make a fool of yourself. Your fate is wholly theirs, understood?” I met his black eyes and seemed to grasp a strange empathy, a sudden humane expression that cared, that wanted me to survive whatever awaited me in there. Only later I realised that this wasn´t a burst of compassion or pity, but a purely selfish desire.


	2. A second Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The council wants Cecile dead. Will anyone intervene?

Lusty eyes. Wanting the drama, the spectacle, the horror. Welcoming me, the slaughter lamb. The beautiful victim. They want to see me bleed. They want to see me beg, cry, yell. They want to see the pathetic child within me.

The hawk dragged me into the room like a kitten ought to be drowned. “This is the fledgling”, he announced, letting me drop onto the floor. I barely kept my posture. “And her sire is nowhere to be found?”, a pale lady with defined cheekbones and a voluminous hairstyle observed me with a natural authority. Her hair was bushy on top, a dark cloud surrounding her head, but still in a way tidy, as if every straw of thick black hair was exactly where it was supposed to be. Bangs framed her striking face at both sides, creating a wall between her anemic face and her ears. Her left eye was concealed by her wildish hair. She wore a scarf around her neck, coloured in some sort of faded mustard. The rest of her clothes were sternly black, and her hands were hidden beneath a pair of leather gloves. The shadow her nose illuded onto her cheek was a straight line like someone had drawn her with the precision of a ruler. Her brows took a straight turn upwards, creating an obtuse angle. Her eyes sat like clear waterdrops on her eyeball, enclosed by dark mascara creating a gloomy look. My first thought was that she would be a great model for an artist, a ravishingly beautiful muse. In my mind, I could already see myself sketching her unique features. But she clearly wasn´t here to pose for a portrait; although these people chose to meet up in a museum, they paid no attention to the pieces on the walls, they chatted carelessly and sipped on glasses of red liquid. My stomach twisted. Blood. Where did the hawk take me? Was I to be sacrificed? I felt my muscles sting with the instinct to flee, but the man who brought me here kept his hefty hands on me. “Left her in a shady hotel room”, he turned to face me, “Do you remember who took you there?” My tongue laid weighty in my mouth like a dead piece of meat. “He was tall”, I began to recall, my voice tiny as ever, “Blanched. He wore fancy clothes although he was in a nightclub. He had wavy, black hair” Was the stranger part of this scheme? I was too afraid to meet their eyes. The woman and the hawk exchanged a glance. “It could be… But the description isn´t accurate enough”, the woman, seemingly in charge of the crowd, suggested, “Quadir?” The hawk nodded. In this room, he was even more terrifying, a bulking figure with long, dark hair, thick eyebrows and a neatly groomed beard. His shoulders seemed to stretch his formal suit to its limits. “I agree, my Prince”, Quadir, the hawk, nodded in consideration. “Anyways”, the woman, apparently “the Prince”, waved Quadir away, with a swift motion of her hand, like an unnerving fly, “Fact is that whoever created this fledgling, it has not been approved of. I believe we all know the protocol. Allow me to quote the Traditions: “Thou shall only Sire another with the permission of thine elder. If thou createst another without thine Elder´s leave, both thou and thy Progeny shall be slain”, the Third Tradition” The audience mumbled in endorsement. “Though, we shan´t be cruel”, the Prince voiced, “Quadir, tell us of the fledgling´s behaviour. Then we shall decide upon her fate” “Very well”, Quadir replied stiffly, “She was overwhelmed by the feeling that had been evoked within her, a natural first response to the turning. She once tried to jump out of my car, but after that, she kept quiet. I´ve had worse ones to deal with, but, if granted mercy, we might have to furthermore teach her our authority” The Prince studied my hunched over figure. “Well”, she announced after a moment of intensity, “I ought to call in the court” “I will await your decision, my Prince”, Quadir bowed slightly. “Thank you, Sheriff”, the Prince and a bunch of others left the room. Out of the smudged crowd, a woman emerged, strolling right towards me. She was strikingly beautiful with thick, red curls, dark cherry lips and nearly golden eyes shining out of dramatic dark eyeshadow. Her nose was rough, slightly wider than the Prince´s, but it did not disturb her feminine elegance. Although, in her lavish red dress, she was intimidating with a stern shadow between her raised brows. However, despite her cold, ghastly face, she immediately brought me comfort. There was something about the way she moved, the way she played with her glowing eyes. She seemed to slowly untie the hardened knot in my stomach. Like the whole saloon just became warmer, I melted at her feet. “Good evening, newbie. My name is Sophie”, the woman´s voice was husky and low, but warm to its core, “I believe you must have a lot of unanswered questions” I wanted to deny her, she was part of this insane coup of kidnapping me, but her sole presence lifted me from the ground, lightened my tongue and made me speak before I even realised my lips were moving. “Y-yes”, still a bit shaky, I raised myself and gave her an insecure smile. Sophie reassured me with a simple gaze: “Go ahead, dear” I chewed on my lower lip. “Where are we?” I asked, hesitantly. The woman smiled at me. “At the Elysium, my love”, her hoarse voice seemed to stroke my cheek, “A secure place for us” “Us?”, I echoed, “Who is us?” “We are the Camarilla, a group of vampires all devoted to protect each other” “Vampires?”, I repeated apathetic. “Yes”, Sophie encouraged me with another illuminating smile, “You might have noticed that your usual body functions have been… interrupted. Your heart is no longer beating and you don´t have to breath. You also probably picked up the strange crave that a new kindred is often harshly confronted with. This desire is called “hunger”, but it is to distinguish from what mortals refer to. Vampires, formally known as kindred, need blood to survive. To coexist with mortals, the kine, can be dangerous, therefore we formed coteries, certain teams you could say, that protect its members” I should have freaked out then and there. But Sophie calmed my nerves. It was like her kind gaze swayed me like a mother. “So… I am a vampire?”, I asked, my voice beginning to slur. “Exactly”, she confirmed calmly, “You have been turned. The problem is, your sire, the vampire that turned you, was not authorised to do so. That is an infringement on our Traditions, the main rules of the Camarilla. The Tradition proposes that if a kindred violates the protocol by turning a mortal, both the sire and their “child” shall be slain” I felt an icy coldness grab my heart and twisting it like a wet towel. “So they will kill me?”, I interrogated callously. “They might”, Sophie answered honestly, “Sometimes, the Prince decides to spare the fledgling, the new vampire. This is up to the court that is discussing right now” “How does that work?”, I asked hollowly, “How can I die when I´m already… dead” “The final Death refers to a vampire crossing the line from undeath into true death. Right now you aren´t dead, you are undead, not fully dead, nor alive. Final death means ultimate ceasing. Total death” I felt my eyes water involuntarily. I quickly covered my face with my hands, but it was too late to avoid looking like a fool. “It´s okay”, Sophie comforted me softly, “As I said, there is a chance that the Prince, Prince Panhard, the head of the Camarilla, gives you a second chance. In case they want to proceed with the ritual, conform to the Traditions, I have a plan. If you are willing, I offer you an agreement. I will protect you from the final death and take you as mine. In return, I expect you to respect me as your new sire, to be loyal and hard working. If you accept these conditions, beg for mercy when the sheriff, the man who brought you here, gets his sword. I will intervene and ask the Prince to spare you” She gently cupped my face with her silky fingers and wiped a crystal teardrop from my cheek. I let myself submissively fall into her soothing touch. “Alright?”, Sophie asked pleased. I nodded silently, concentrating wholly on her smooth skin against mine. Whatever she did to me, it was powerful. Her aura was irresistible. Was this a vampire power? I had no explanation for my strange behaviour. I was like a puppy begging for their owners reassuring. Sophie withdrew her hand after a warm second of tenderly lingering and looked at me before she strolled back into the crowd. A few seconds later, the door opened swiftly and the court, lead by the Prince, returned. On her side, Quadir, the sheriff, yielded a sword. It was an old blade, beautifully shaped, with lavishly detailed patterns of beasts and leaves. The edges were sharp enough to cut through bone, I thought at the sight of the stunning but scaring weapon. The Prince gestured to crown to stop talking. The whole room fell into an eerie silence. I held my breath, not needing the oxygen as a vampire anyways. It was still a habit to breathe, it felt unnatural to refuse to. “After a fruitful discussion, the Court came to a conclusion. With a few passionate voices against the common decision”, she glanced at a man that shrunk under her piercing eyes, “the Court agreed that, especially during these alarming and unstable times, we should hold our Traditions dearly and appreciate their guidance for the kindred. Thus, we shall not violate our most important laws and submit gratefully to our divine constitution. It fills us with sorrow that the irresponsible act of one has to be borne by an innocent victim. But our Traditions are clear. The Progeny shall be slain” I swallowed heavily. All the eyes of the audience turned from their leader to me. I felt my stomach turn. “Quadir as our beloved sheriff will execute the order. Fledgeling, please come forward” My legs twitched with anxiety as I stumbled towards Quadir. The sight of his sword made me gag. I could already feel its blade penetrating my skin, slashing through my flesh and bones like butter. Quadir looked at me, a neutral expression, but I suspected the shimmer of regret returned to his eyes. He looked the way he had appeared before guiding me into the museum, pitying, but I felt like the pity was not for me, but for himself. He hated that he had to kill me, but the thought of my fate left him unshaken. It was his own dignity that he so desperately clung to, not my survival. He avoided my eyes when he raised his crooked voice: “Please kneel” I witnessed myself fall onto my knees. It was more that I observed myself from a bystander´s point of view rather than actually experiencing the frightening seconds kneeling on the marble floor of the gallery. Quadir raised the sword. It was now, or never. I blurted out: “Please! Please spare me!” For a terrifying second I thought it had been too late. For a moment of disabling terror in which I could already hear the blade spinning, a confident voice interrupted the execution. “My Prince”, Sophie stepped into the circle the crowd had formed around me and the sheriff, “I have a proposition to make. Please grant me a minute to elaborate. Then, you may reconsider your decision” The Prince raised her eyebrows. “Fine”, she regarded Sophie curiously, “What do you propose?” Sophie cleared her throat and gifted me a reassuring glance: “My Prince, similar to the Court, I came to the same conclusion: Slaying the fledgeling is not just. And I strongly believe that the Traditions are in its core aiming towards justice. I agree that we should not violate their conditions, but I also feel for the newbie. I realised that this verdict was incompatible with my understanding of morality. Therefore, I offer to the Court, to the Camarilla: I will take care of the fledgeling and bear the responsibility. I will raise them like their sire should have done. In this case, the Traditions would be in favour: The fledgeling would no longer be without a sire” “Langley, you intend to act as the fledgelings guarantor?”, the Prince shushed the surprised mumbling in the rows of the spectators. “I do”, Sophie smiled, one of those alluring, overpowering smiles. But apparently the Prince was somewhat immune to her charm. Later I would realise that they did feel the same effect, but they knew it was her seductive manipulation, therefore fighting the urge to give in. The Prince disregarded Sophies flirtations. She kept quiet for a second. “Alright”, she announced after a strangulating moment of silence, “If you, Langley, desire to guarantee for this fledgeling, I will not interfere. Quadir, withdraw the blade”, the Prince inspected me while Sophie grinned contently, “Langley, I expect you are aware of the responsibility you just put onto yourself?” “I am”, Sophie nodded sternly, “Thank you, my Prince” “Well”, the Prince viewed the crowd, some with a relieved expression, others quarrelling, disappointed in the lack of gore presented, “Then you are dismissed. Langley, I assume you will provide the fledgeling with a haven?” “I will”, Sophie promised charmingly, “I estimate it´ll be best to take her there. Do you consent?” The last words were directed towards me. Quadir, clearly grateful to mot smear his hands with blood today, offered me a hand. I raised myself, still shaking. “Prove Sophie and the Camarilla that this wasn´t a mistake”, he grunted, still grumpy, but visibly relieved. I nodded quickly. “I will, thank you” “Thank Miss Langley”, Quadir returned roughly, “It was not my decision to spare you” Sophie Langley approached me with a distinct smile. “I am awfully glad you accepted my offer”, she remarked, offering me her arm, “Shall we? I believe you are tired and I just know the right place to take a good night´s sleep”


	3. A bloody kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie saved Cecile´s life by offering to sire her. Now, she intends to teach her how being a kindred (vamprie) works. One of the first lessons: Not all kindred and mortals are enemies... *slight nsfw*

Sophie answered my countless questions on the way to my new apartment after asking me about my name, former life and feelings at the momenz. “Is your driver a vampire too?”, I asked curiously. “Oh no, Gregory”, she gestured towards the tall, white man behind the wheel, “is a mortal. While the Masquerade rules that we have to keep our identity a secret to protect our kind, a lot of vampires have some contact to kine. It is good to connect within both communities. The relationship between kindred and kine is diverse. Some believe we are not more than a fairytale and pop culture imagination, while others, even trained troops, hunt us down. But there are also mortals that serve vampires or keep a friendly connection to them. Now that I´m thinking about it, I´d like to show you around tomorrow to introduce you to the world of kindred and kine. Meet me tomorrow evening at 10pm” “I will”, I assured. Sophie nodded. “So…”, I played with my hair, “I can still meet mutuals from… my life?” Sophie frowned slightly: “Yes and no. Be careful when interacting with your friends, or former friends. A breach on the Masquerade is dangerous to all kindred and will be punished. Don´t risk the mercy Prince Panhard gifted you. On the other hand, keeping contact with mortals, not just as a vessel of blood but a human being, is important to stay sane. It helps us cool the beast” “The beast?”, I arched my brows, “What do you mean?” “The beast is within all kindred. Legends say that this wild, evil spirit came from the curse God laid upon Cain after he slaughtered his brother Abel, becoming the first murderer. It is told that all vampires are descendants of Cain, and share the same curse. I cannot verify nor dismantle this idea. I don´t spend time studying mythology or religion. But it is certainly true that we all have this beast”, she folded her legs, adjusting her dress, “We have an ambiguous relationship with our beasts. Its strength grows when we use our powers, making us stronger too. Drinking blood weakens the beast, that simultaneously controls our hunger, the desire to feed. If we don´t drink from time to time, the hunger overpowers us and we unconsciously hunt a potential prey. This can be extremely dangerous, as in said state you aren’t able to control yourself, thus potentially revealing your identity, staying outside too long, or harming yourself otherwise. We have to keep discipline. You must find a way to manage your beast, if you lose control too often, it can ultimately dominate you. So please be careful, alright?” I nodded quickly. “Of course, I will”, I watched her brushing her skirt over her pale thighs, “I won´t disappoint you, Sophie” “Oh, I know you won´t, Cecile”, she laughed light-heartedly, but I felt her gaze tensely on me, “Just a few things before we arrive at our goal: The apartment I´ll show you is your haven. That means, it’s a safe place for you to spend the days. A lot of myths about vampires are untrue. We aren´t appalled by garlic or crosses, although holy things, churches or saints, can damage us physically. But it is true that the sun is one of the most gruesome ways to die for kindred: The light will simply crumble us to ash” She must´ve noticed my frightened stare and smiled softly. “Don´t worry, dear. There are a few simple rules you should follow, but being a vampire isn´t as terrifying as it may sound now. You will learn more tomorrow. I estimate you are rather tired after the stressful night?” I nodded sleepily. “We´re there”, Gregory parked the car in an underground garage. This time, I wasn´t dragged into a cramped chamber. Instead, Sophie piloted me towards the entry of an apartment in the complex above the parking lot. “This is yours now”, she smiled at my exited face, offering me the key, “I took the liberty to furnish the apartment, but it is up to you to further stylise it. Sleep well, Cecile. I will await you tomorrow evening. If there are any problems, you can find me down the hallway in room 74” “Thank you so much”, the key was light in my hand, but the responsibility of an own apartment weighed tons, “Not only for the room” I braced myself and looked directly at her. She returned my gaze with an open face. “I also wanted to thank you for saving me. Without you, I´d be dead now. I won´t disappoint you, I value the chance” “Alright”, Sophie smiled, “You have plenty time to prove yourself to me. Goodnight Cecile”

I opened my eyes, slowly touching my arms and legs. I have never slept this deep. Like I had died overnight just to be reborn again. Like a lifeless stone. I raised myself, glancing around me. The apartment was small but elegant, in a vintage but inobtrusive way. The book shelves at the wall of the living room had already been filled with eloquent books, all displaying a fierce aura, the immediate remark of the owner´s intellectual competence. I quickly dressed myself, still feeling a bit stiff. I usually remembered my dreams, but this time, there was nothing left from my sleep. This had, in all honesty, felt like death. I rubbed my eyes and casually strolled through the room, lightly touching the back of the books. They had a baroque, impressive appearance, but when closely inspecting, you could see that they were rarely touched if ever: The pages that should be yellowish from the fingers roaming through were nearly white and not one of the covers displayed any signs of use, no scratches, broken backs or tangled bookmarks. Instead, a thin, but visible coat of dust laid on top of the literature. I softly blew it away, wondering if Sophie´s room was, too, filled with decorative, old books. The kind of pretentious book shelves full of prestigious philosophy? The hand of the wooden clock above the beige couch struck 9pm. There was still an hour left until Sophie expected me. I sank back into the cushions and snuggled up to the sofa. It smelled good, the slight scent of parfum reminded me of Sophie. I relaxed my muscles and took a deep breath. What would await me today? Or should I say tonight? I wasn´t sure if I was excited or terrified of the new world that I was to be introduced to. My stomach rebelled and I recalled Sophie´s words. The beast…   
After relaxing for a bit, I couldn´t keep on waiting, so at 09.45 I left my room and strolled down the corridor, searching for room 74. It was one floor beneath me, but a quick lift guided me steadily. I hesitated a second, before softly knocking. I heard the familiar tapping of shoes approaching the door. A second later, Sophie leaned in the doorframe. She smiled. “I wasn´t expecting you so soon”, she confessed light-heartedly, “Come in” I followed her inviting gesture and entered the apartment. It resembled mine like I had speculated, but there was a certain touch, an undefinable vibe that filled the room. It was so full of Sophie´s spirit that it was hard to concentrate. “I guess you´re curious what I referred to yesterday, is that right?”, Sophie sat down on a graceful chair, offering me the couch. I nodded. “I can´t blame you for that”, Sophie smiled, “I created an awful tension. So…” She crossed her legs. Sophie was wearing a similar dress, bloody red silk that hugged her figure in detail. I couldn´t help but observe the way her thorax rose and sank, pressing her pointy breasts softly against the fabric. I gulped, quickly looking at her face, meticulously avoiding that my gaze dropped to her full lips that suddenly seemed so sensual. Was that her incredible charm again? Sophie was not aware of the effect she had on me, or at least she did not show it. She simply brushed a branch of her fiery hair behind her ear and continued to explain: “While kindred and kine usually do not cater a positive relationship, it is possible for them to bond. Like my driver, Gregory, some kine prefer to work with vampires. Some also enjoy the kiss, the act of drawing blood from a human´s vein with your teeth. While it may seem barbaric at first, it is actually a very stimulating experience for both parties. For a lot of kine, it is comparable to the feeling of getting “high” of drugs. Therefore, there are some humans that volunteer to offer blood for a mutual vampire. Today, as a first experience of truly drinking blood, I´d like to introduce you to one girl that, well, is fond of the experience and regularly meets with kindred for said purpose” I stared at her, my mouth unintelligently open like of a dead fish. Sophie smirked at my sight. “It´s crazy at first, but you will assimilate”, she promised, “Don´t be shy. But control yourself. The first taste of fresh blood can be quite intoxicating and I do not condone that any harm could be inflicted on this kine. I am very keen of her” I nodded: “I´m- I´m gonna be careful” “I do not expect anything else of you”, Sophie played with the hem of her dress, “Are you ready? We will meet her at a gallery” 

The moment Sophie stepped into the open hall that was displaying the work of esteemed artists, the whole crowd collectively held their breath. It was like a goddess entered the assembly. Sophie seemed to shine, striking power wherever she set her foot. I immediately recognised the expression on the audience´s faces, relating to their offsetting delusion that infiltrated their thoughts at the sight of Sophie besides me. This time, Sophie was visibly aware of her allurement and confidently approached a middle-aged man, smiling with pleasure. “Good day”, she greeted him dauntlessly, “May I have a word?” She started to talk to the guy, waving me to her and the young woman sitting besides the man. She was not older than I, with wildish, lilac hair that, on one side of the head, was shaven off. She looked cool, a bold style, but she was rather reluctant when I, insecurely, walked up to her. “I am Cecile”, I offered her my hand. She took it shyly. “Are you… you know?”, she asked cautiously. I grinned by her awkward manner. “Um yes”, I replied, “Do you…?” “Yes, follow me”, she told me with an excited glint in her eyes. “I am Julie” she explained while she guided me out of the crowded gallery, upstairs to a balcony that hovered meters above the greyish asphalt. She leaned against the railing, checking if anyone was watching. Then, she slowly pushed her sleeve up and offered me her bare wrist. “Please”, she said carefully. I blinked, unsure what to do. Warily, I grabbed her arm, clasping her white skin. “Should I just-?”, I asked timidly. Julie smiled eagerly: “Yes” Still unfamiliar with the whole situation, I quickly looked behind me, checking if any unwanted spectator was peaking through the windows, but we were unsupervised. I felt my finger tremble as I carefully lifted Julie´s wrist to my mouth. As my lips just barely touched her skin, Julie gasped. I retracted my mouth, alerted, but she gestured me to continue. Slowly, I put my lips onto her wrist and bared my teeth. When I found an accessible vein, I gently sunk my teeth into her flesh. As soon as they penetrated her skin, Julie moaned deeply. I felt her arm slightly open up beneath my mouth, and soon, a drop of blood spilled from her artery onto my tongue. The sudden taste was indescribable. I felt my entire body tingle as I began to suck on Julie´s skin, hungrily drinking up. Julie grunted in pleasure, but I didn´t really hear her anymore, it was like a quick, but hard rush. My past self, my… normal self, would´ve been disgusted and shocked by the view of a creature biting into a girl´s arm, but the beast that now possessed me did not care for whatever atrocity this may was. I withdrew my lips from Julie´s wrist, watching with increasing arousal how the blood slowly dripped from the tiny holes in her skin. “Keep g-going”, Julie begged. This time, I did not hesitate but smashed my lips back onto her, licking off the liquid that spilled on her forearm. For a few seconds, I continued to suck the wounds, then I retreated slowly, licking the cuts clean. Magically, where her skin had just parted to invite my fangs, it quickly grew back together after my tongue had caressed it. Julie shakily leaned back onto the railing and breathed deeply. I saw tears lingering in the corner of her eyes. “Are you alright?”, I asked after my breath had calmed. She nodded: “Y-yes, this was just intense” I agreed with a silent nod. I still felt my body throb heatedly while the taste of her blood dissolved on my tongue. “We- we should go back”, Julie said tiredly, “My father is waiting for me” “Of course”, I took a step back, letting her get in front of me. Still thrilled by the experience, I stumbled after her, nearly falling down the stairs because my knees still felt incredibly wobbly. Sophie raised her gaze as she heard us returning. She smiled self-assuredly as she regarded my expression. She pulled me closer, brushing a finger over my upper lip. I froze in surprise, suddenly so close to her cool body. “There was still a bit… wine”, Sophie explained, winking at me. I felt my cheeks blushing as she interrogated me with her curious eyes. “T-thank you”, I stuttered. Julie sat down next to her father, smiling at me. “Well, thank you for your company”, the man announced, obviously tangled into Sophie´s web of flirtations. She was like one of those spiders that lured males, mated and then scoffed them up. As if Sophie had somehow read my thoughts, she shot me a tempting look, slightly baring her shiny teeth. I felt myself shudder. “The pleasure was mine, Sir”, Sophie nodded pleasantly, “I assume we will meet again?” “Surely”, the man agreed, “And who are you?” The last sentence was directed at me. I quickly pulled myself together. “Um… Hello, I´m Cecile” “Nice to meet you, Cecile”, he said, shaking my hand. I was suddenly overly conscious of the iciness of my skin. “Goodbye”, Sophie said warmly, “Take care, you two” “Likewise”, the man bowed slightly. Sophie´s arm grasped my shoulder as she piloted me towards the exit. I was grateful for her support as I still felt shaken. Outside of the building, Gregory awaited us behind tinted windows. Sophie opened the door for me and I practically fell onto the back seat. During the ride, Sophie regarded me through the mirror. “I see, it went well”, she commented. My head jerked up: “Wh-?” Sophie grinned to herself: “Well, Julie seemed rather pleased and I know the shaky legs after the first time” My cheeks heated again. “I assume it tasted good then?”, Sophie asked curiously, “Some kindred have a more… exquisite taste. If blood appeals to you is mainly dependant on the person´s blood-type, but also their feelings and personality. If someone is feeling angry while you drink, you may taste the emotion in their blood” “Well, uh, it tasted- good”, I mumbled. “I´m glad you two are compatible”, Sophie announced, “I really like Julie, she´s such a sweet girl. And the experience is always more pleasuring when the kine consents. You just have to be responsible. If you drink too much blood in one session, it can potentially damage the kine´s health” “Of course”, I agreed warily. “But don´t worry too much”, she adjusted her bun, “At first it is sort of tricky to manage your desire, but it quickly becomes manageable. I expect you to control yourself when you feed” “I will”, I assured her hastily. Gregory´s eyes had followed our conversation. He seemed unfazed by it. Of course, he worked with a vampire. I observed his strong arms turning the steering wheel. What was his relationship to Sophie? Were they close? Was it strictly professional or did they, too, knew each other intimately? I searched for bitemarks on Gregory´s neck or wrists, which would confirm my suspicion, but of course there were none. If I was able to heal the cuts that I bit into Julie´s skin, then Sophie, a far more experienced kindred, could definitely do the same. I leaned back into the seat and watched New York pass by. How old was Sophie? Did vampires still age? If not, Sophie could be hundreds of years old. The thought disturbed me. I was too exhausted to brood over it.   



End file.
